


Custom Kitchen Deliveries

by lalalalynds



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Not!Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:24:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalalalynds/pseuds/lalalalynds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Appliance store AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Custom Kitchen Deliveries

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this is, it was just an idea based off the song "Money For Nothing" by Dire Straits that I couldn't shake. However, I suck at writing and I also have no motivation to write (because I'm bad at it) so I'm just dropping what I have of this here and maybe one day I'll get it back to it.

Ryan takes one last glance in the mirror before sighing heavily and clipping his name tag onto his shirt. It reads “RYAN KESLER” in large block letters and is tacky as hell, but he already got chewed out for not wearing it, so. It’d probably be really embarrassing to get fired on the first day of his new job, anyway. He takes a deep breath, counts to ten and mentally steels himself to get ready to go out onto the floor again.

***

He’s hiding out in the washer/dryer section of the store when his assistant manager tracks him down. “Ryan!” she trills. “I’m _so_ glad I’ve found you!” He wants to punch her in the face. No one working at Sears should be that cheerful, ever.

“Martha,” he replies, trying for a smile. He can’t see his own face but he imagines it fails. He probably looks like he’s being tortured. And really, that’s a pretty accurate descriptor for being around Martha. 

“Now Ryan,” she chides, “I know it’s your first day and you’re still learning, but you really need to seek out the customers. We pride ourselves on our customer service here at Sears.” She punctuates this with a brilliant smile, showing a terrifying amount of teeth. 

Ryan opens his mouth to lie about how he was _totally_ helping a customer when she holds up a hand. “No worries, Ryan,” Martha continues, “I have a young man here who’s in _desperate_ need of a new refrigerator. If you’d follow me, I’ll introduce you.” Without glancing back, she strides briskly to the rows upon rows of refrigerators. There’s a tall, incredibly good looking guy standing next to a shiny Kenmore, looking slightly uncomfortable. The look transforms to one of sheer distress when Martha opens her mouth and starts speaking in an unnaturally shrill voice. “Ryan, this is Mr. Ladd.” Beaming, she turns to the guy and chirps, “And Mr. Ladd, this is Ryan. He’ll be _more_ than happy to assist you with all your appliance needs today!” With that, she turns on her heel and stomps off, no doubt to make someone else’s ears bleed. Ryan rolls his eyes and begins plotting all the ways he could get rid of Martha without getting caught, when a voice interrupts his fantasies. “Um, so. Mr. Salesperson. Are you gonna help me or…?” He waves a hand in front of Ryan’s face to emphasize the question. 

“Patience dude,” Ryan snaps, glaring at the guy. Mr. Ladd. Whatever. And oops, maybe he shouldn’t be so rude to the customers, but Ryan reasons that if the guy _really_ wants a refrigerator, he can deal. The guy just sort of blinks once, opens his mouth as if he’s going to speak, and then closes it again. Ryan just barely resists the urge to roll his eyes and grits out, “So Mr. Ladd, what sort of refrigerator are you looking for?” He injects as much fake enthusiasm as he can into his voice, which is to say: not much. 

The guy cringes. “Don’t call me Mr. Ladd. Andrew is fine. Nice to meet you, Ryan.” He says it almost reluctantly, like maybe it’s _not_ nice to meet him. Then he sticks his hand out anyway. What is this guy’s deal? 

“I’m not shaking your hand, _Andrew_ ,” Ryan mutters. God, he’s so going to get fired. “Seriously. Let’s talk refrigerators. I’ve got shit to do.” 

Andrew just does that weird blinking, goldfish-esque gaping thing again before saying, “You’re really unpleasant, you know that?” 

“I work at fucking Sears,” Ryan retorts. “I don’t exactly love my life.” 

“Yeah...” Andrew just kind of looks at him, and that’s when Ryan remembers that actually, this job is on commission (fucking stupid) and he should really try harder. 

He sighs, swallows his pride, and sticks out his hand. “I’m Ryan. Sorry for the attitude, it’s my first day and it’s not like I planned to end up working here, you know?” He flashes a grin, going for chagrined but probably missing by a mile. He hopes it at least looks semi-authentic. 

Andrew nods skeptically, but takes the proffered hand. “Nice to meet you, Ryan.” He pauses, withdrawing his hand. “My old fridge just crapped out on me today, so I need to replace it ASAP. Quick in, quick out.” He says it in a slightly uppity way, like he doubts Ryan’s capable of locating a refrigerator he wants in a respectable amount of time. 

“How much you wanna pay?” Ryan asks, barely biting back a growl. Andrew’s about to answer when there’s a sharp, “ _Ryan_ ,” in the background. Martha pops up, a distressingly bright smile pasted on her face. Great. He’s definitely going to get the “it’s rude to ask customers how much they’re willing to pay” lecture later. He, for one, doesn’t understand. How’s he supposed to know which of the gazillion refrigerators to show this guy if he doesn’t know his price range? _Apparently_ they’re supposed to start with the most expensive, to goad customers into shelling out the money, but in Ryan’s opinion, _that’s_ what’s rude. “Sorry,” Ryan says with fake sweetness, aiming the remark mostly at Martha. “Why don’t I just show you some of our most popular models and then we can discuss some components like Energy Star qualifications and the like.” He totally pulled that out of his ass, quoted almost directly from a commercial he saw the other day. He doesn’t even know if it applies to refrigerators but judging by the way Martha nods approvingly, he must have gotten it right. He takes a firm grip of Andrew’s arm (and hello, biceps) and steers him in the direction of the refrigerators as far away from Martha as possible. 

“Sorry dude,” Ryan says once they’re out of earshot. “She’s like, crazy. And has built-in radar for when I’m doing something wrong.” 

“Where was she when you were insulting me?” Andrew mutters under his breath. Then, louder, “It’s fine. Bosses suck, I get it.” 

Ryan glares suspiciously, snarky retort on the tip of his tongue. He swallows it when he remembers that actually, he could really use the commission since he’s going to get fired sooner rather than later, either for his attitude or for murdering Martha. They’re both equally likely scenarios. 

Ryan claps his hands together. “So. There’s a few different types of refrigerator/freezer combos. You’ve got the standard side-by-side, the top freezer, a bottom freezer or the French Door bottom freezer. This one,” Ryan gestures to a nearby fridge, “is our most popular.” 

Andrew eyes the appliance with apprehension. “Really?” he says. “Your most popular sell is also the most expensive fridge?” He cocks an eyebrow, then continues, “I’m not paying 3,700$ for a fridge. Show me something cheaper.” 

Well, fuck. At least he tried, right? A bummer though, because 8% of 3,700$ was a lot of money. “Okay, fine.” He takes a few steps to the left, then points. “This one’s on sale, it’s only 1,500$. Frigidaire’s a great brand, plus the side-by-side fridge/freezer combo is the best. And it comes with the built-in water dispenser.” He’s about to add made-up shit about cooling coils and the defrost system, but Andrew doesn’t really look like he cares. And honestly, Ryan doesn’t either. 

“Ugh, alright. Do you guys do free delivery?” 

“Of course!” Ryan flashes a bright (and incredibly fake) grin. He continues obnoxiously, “Free delivery for our customers is standard. We care about our customers’ happiness here at Sears—your needs come first!” He punctuates the statement with an exaggerated wink. He’s not sure why he’s reverted back to his default dick mode, but something about this guy rubs him the wrong way. And, he already said he was going to buy the fridge so whatever. 

It’s Andrew’s turn to roll his eyes. “Just ring me up dude, so I can get out of here.” Ryan is all too quick to comply. 

***

Later, when Ryan’s lying in bed, he mentally reviews his first day at his new (shitty) job. After selling the refrigerator, he’d managed to spend the rest of his shift ducking both Martha and any other potential customers, so at least that part of the day was a success. His mind keeps wandering back to Andrew. He can’t lay a finger on it, but _something_ about the guy had just irked him. Maybe it was his smug attitude. Or his (disgustingly good-looking) face. Ryan rolls over with a groan. He prays that tomorrow is better, and that Martha is placated by the sale he made today. He really can’t afford to get fired from _another_ job, because he’s running out of places that will hire him. He never thought he’d be washed up at 24, failing miserably at life, halfway across the continent from anyone who actually gives a shit about him. He sighs heavily and wills himself to stop thinking about such depressing shit. He has a nine hour shift the next morning; he’ll have plenty of time to mope and whine about how much his life sucks then. 

***

It’s been a few weeks now, and by some insane stroke of luck, Ryan still has a job. He’s even managed to sell a few things here and there; the commission really helps his paycheck not seem as pathetic as it really is. He’s even made a friend, sort of. It’s that weird kind of friendship where you’re buddy-buddy at work yet never talk outside of store hours, but Ryan’s fine with it, really. Burrows is annoying and clingy and asks way too many fucking questions in that dumb French accent. Half of the time Ryan is a dick on purpose and pretends he can’t understand what Alex is saying, like now.

“Seriously bro. No parle French.” Ryan ducks to hide his grin when Bur huffs a sigh. 

“’ _Je ne parle pas français_ ’,” Alex corrects. “Always you are being rude, Ryan, this is why you have only me for a friend.” 

Ryan rolls his eyes but smiles. “You’re just lucky I even bother to grace you with my presence, really,” he quips as they head out of the break room. He has his mouth open, about to lay it on even thicker when he runs straight into a wall. He windmills his arms, trying desperately not to fall over when the wall reaches out and steadies him. Wait, what? Ryan blinks, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart, and looks up. 

The wall with arms is grinning amusedly down at him, somehow managing to make the barely-an-inch height difference seem like so much more. And of course, of _course_ it’s that asshole from Ryan’s first day. 


End file.
